Istari
by Luthienthedancer
Summary: Wisdom is vital in the battle for middle earth but without hope even the most wise may fail. This is a retelling of Lord of the Rings with Hope introduced as a personified character, a female Istari. This is a non-traditional simi 10th walker tale. It is also the first time I am showing anyone my work. Constructive criticism is greatly appreciated. I own noting but my OC.
1. Chapter 1

Prolog

 _Hope is Born_

Arda shook with the impending thunder of evil as the darkness of Mordor slowly regained its strength. Sauron sat patiently, biding his time, still seeking to fulfill his master's desire for revenge by corrupting the land that the Valar held so dear. It was only a matter of time.

"We cannot let that scum destroy the homes of our children, the fruits of ages of labor must not be tainted!" Shouted the imposing form sitting across the circular room from Manwe.

"Peace Aule" he sighed gently and the vala sat back in his chair, still fuming. "We have given them as much guidance as we dare" he continued, "Our hopes for the future of Arda are continually dashed by the vulnerability of its peoples. We have been betrayed time and time again as we seek to help them and for this reason I have lost hope that the future we had set for them can become manifest." Many of his fellow Valar nodded their reluctant agreement. So much pain and suffering had plagued the world they loved already, how could there be hope in such a dark place?

"But my lord Manwe" admonished a clear voice from the corner of the room, "That is exactly why we must not stop trying." All heads turned in surprise to behold Este the Gentle for she so rarely entered the counsel halls of the Valar. She stepped gracefully to center of the chamber, "if we, the first creation of Lord Eru, do not have hope, how can we expect those who look to us for guidance to be able to battle the forces of evil unleashed by Melkor and his servant Sauron?"

"Yes my lord," agreed her husband Irmo from his position in the circle of Valar, "Hope can be the key to braving the darkness that looms ahead."

"And how shall we administer this hope?" Namo inquired in his dark and brooding way.

Este was quick to answer with a confidence that seemed foreign in such an atmosphere of despair. "We must send another Maiar," she advised, which resulted in doubtful murmuring amongst her kin. But Manwe looked thoughtful.

"We have already sent five," he mused, "back when the world was still young. But Alatar and Pallando the Blue have disappeared into the East and Curumo, whom they call Saruman, has grown dark with greed and corruption. This leaves only Olorin the Gray to administer to the people of Arda for Aiwedil the Brown has been tasked to care for growing things and pays little heed to the goings on of Men."

"But whom should we send?" asked Varda the Star Queen.

"There is a Maiar in the service of my husband and I who is well equipped for this task," replied Este. "It has trained under both of us and has even spent time training with you my lord Manwe."

"Yes, a fine choice," boomed Aule, "the servant of the master of dreams and the lady of healing and rest is the perfect herald of hope to the children of the Valar."

"It is decided," Manwe agreed, "Olorin shall be their guidance and this Maiar shall be their Hope. Summon the Maiar here and we shall appoint it to it's task." Este complied and soon a small orb of energy joined the Valar. This formless, nameless being was about become an agent of change in Arda. Manwe cupped the Maiar in his powerful hand and spoke words of power upon it. "I name you Estelanar, the bringer of hope, go now and battle the forces of evil that seek to pull the land of Arda into despair." With the sound of a great wind the Maiar was swept away to begin it's task.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 1

 _Bright Beginnings_

The Maia blinked at the bright sun above its head and marveled at the sensations that assaulted it. For the first time it its long existence it knew what it was like to see. It could feel the warmth of the sun's rays, smell the warm grass on which it lay, and hear the soft buzzing of insects in the flowers. The joy that filled the Maia in that moment was so great that it felt it bubbling up inside itself until it expelled the joy with an exuberant sound. For the first time the Maia knew what it was to laugh.

The Maia raised its hand above its head and marveled at the complexity of its first corporeal form. Tendon slid over bone as it wiggled the long, seemingly delicate fingers. Slowly the Maia sat up, in awe of the way its muscles bunched and pulled to maneuver its body the way that it wished. It looked down at its new form and gasped in amazement. "I am female," it breathed. Tears stung its eyes as it realized for the first time it had a unique identity, and in that moment "it" became "she."

With sudden joyous energy, she leapt to her feet and ran across the field in which she found herself. Leaping and spinning reveling in the agility of her new body. Breathing great lungfuls of fresh air and spreading her arms wide she sang her joy to the sky.

When her enthusiasm had run its course, she flung herself back onto the grass panting heavily and wearing a huge grin on her face. She examined her surroundings with more care. She was sitting in the middle of a field that sat in a small valley right at the foot of rolling hills. To her left was a river that burbled happily over its stony bed. Along the river grew Cypress trees and their spicy scent wafted through the valley on the summer breeze.

For a long while she just lay there, watching the clouds turn pink as the sun dipped below the horizon. As the stars winked into existence she greeted them each by name until her eyes, heavy with exhaustion lost focus and she began to dream.

In her dream she saw the face of her lady Este, she beamed, babbling her delight in her form and the world she had been placed in. "Hush, little one," she soothed "I am happy for your joy, but there is much I must tell you." The Maia calmed herself and listened intently to Este's words. "You know your purpose, little one, you are to bring hope to this dark world, and that is no easy task. It is up to you to determine how best to serve your purpose. You have been equipped by Lord Irmo and myself to accomplish your goal but the skills that we have taught you in the art of healing and dream giving must be used with care and caution. It is your heart dear one, and compassion that must sway those you meet and bring them back to the light." As her words trailed away, the Maia found herself doubting her preparedness.

"Please," she whispered, "Don't leave me. I don't know where to begin."

The face of Este smiled gently, "I will always be watching dear one but you will not always hear my voice. Do not doubt yourself for you are Hope and your identity must not waver." Este's face faded away and the Maia found herself rising from the blackness of sleep and becoming aware of the light that was a new day.

She blinked in the early morning sunlight that was streaming into the field in which she rested. The Maia stretched her arms above her head, marveling again in the body she now inhabited. There was a light dusting of dew on her skin and on the grass around her and a thin mist rose from the river to her left. As she raised her head, she caught sight of a lovely doe drinking by the water. At the sound of her movement, the doe looked up but did not run. For a long while, the two stared at each other before the doe turned back to the water. The Maia watched with fascination, taking in the delicate hooves and soft brown coat of the beautiful creature until it finished its drink and bounded away. Only then, did the Maia go to the water and quench her own thirst.

Once her thirst was addressed, she became aware of the hunger that gnawed at her belly. She looked around and saw some bulrushes growing near the water. The knowledge of herb lore that she had gained in the tutelage of Lady Este in the art of healing told her that she could find the sustenance she desired there. She walked over to the patch of bulrushes and picked a few from their roots and washed them in the river, she gathered her plunder and moved back towards the patch of dandelions that she had seen in the field before. She added several of these to her bundle and toped it off with a sprig of fireweed for taste. It pleased her that the skills she gained after long years of study had already proved so useful. She sat with her back against the tree and began to nibble on the bulrush roots. She knew that she could not survive on only plants for long but they provided enough energy for the time being.

As she scanned her small field, her keen, new eyes picked out dozens of different plant species, their medical properties, nutritional value, and name of each in all the tongs of middle earth flashing through her head. Upon finishing her meal her eyes alit on a huge Cypress tree, one of the dozens that lined the river and blanketed the valley in its spicy scent. She smiled and ran over to it wrapping her arms around its vast trunk and looking up into the branches. She felt the strength of the tree and sighed in contentment. "My Lord," she spoke softly, "may I take of your wood and meld its strength to mine?" The tree shuddered in the breeze and she smiled her thanks.

She than sat upon one of the large Cypress knees that wound around the base of the tree and closed her eyes, placing her hands on the rough bark of the tree. She furrowed her brow in concentration and began to sing. It began as a soft low note, barely audible, but it slowly grew, her rich warm voice undulating in the still morning air. All other sound seamed to dissipate, as if the whole valley had stopped to listen. As she sang a soft golden glow pulsed from her fingers into the tree. Slowly a new branch began to form in the trunk of the tree by her hands. It began as a thin shoot sprouting out of the glowing bark and in the span of minuets, her song coxed the small sprout into a long, sturdy branch. Her song began to swell, crescendoing in a series of runs. The pulsing glow intensified and the branch began to shape itself carefully to her specifications. The bark twisted into subtle forms that could have been words in some long forgotten language and the tip began to widen and split forming a hollow center with a subtle vine motif covering the hollow section. As her song reached its climax the pulsing glow, radiating from the Maiar's hands became steady and with her last strong note the light became blinding in intensity. When the note had trailed away and the light had faded the Maia was left holding her masterpiece.

It was as staff, it was about one and four-fifths meter tall, about her own hight, and seemed to radiate with the power that had just been poured into it. She sighed, leaning tiredly against the tree she had just used. She looked into the branches, panting softly, "Thank you" she breathed and closed her eyes, cradling her staff to her chest.

She only rested briefly, for her task was not yet done. She used her staff to push herself to her feet and then waded into the shallows of the river casting about in the water as if she was looking for something. She waded deeper until the water came to her hips, looking below her into the riverbed with great concentration. With a cry of excitement, she dove fully into the water and arose dripping and clutching a smooth oval stone slightly smaller than her fist, it was a piece of quartz veined with gold that had been washed down from the mountains many years before, tossed along rivers and streams until it came to its resting place. She waded back to the riverbank and sat upon the roots of the Cypress tree again, dangling her feet in the water. She took a deep breath rolling the stone in her hand. Then she closed her eyes and began to sing again. As her song grew the stone in her hand began to glow brilliant gold. She brought the hollow portion of the staff and the stone together and pushed them together in a swift motion. In another blinding flash of light the stone was resting in the hollow part of the staff, encased by the carved vines formed by the cypress wood. She continued to sing, both the staff and the stone began to glow, and a line of golden light connected the stone to the Maia's chest connecting them. As the song continued, the Maia herself began to glow with a golden light. She slowly slowed her song and with a soft finale, she broke off her song and the glow gradually diminished.

She sagged into the tree besides her and her eyes drooped closed, within minutes the slow rise and fall of her chest initiated her slumber. She had diminished her strength greatly in making her staff but she now had passed the test and become a full Instari. She was prepared to take her place in Arda and was one-step closer to fulfilling the task that was appointed her by the Valar.

Down the valley in a small house by the river, a strange old man with yellow boots stood up from the breakfast table and cocked his head a grin spreading across his face as he listened to the lovely voice drifting through the window with the breeze.

"Goldberry my dear," he said jovially, "I am off to fetch you some water lilies, and I may bring another gift as well." With a wink, he grabbed his blue coat and skipped out the door with an agility that defied his age. His wife just smiled and laughed to herself as she watched him dance down the river path.


	3. Chapter 3

Ch 2

 _A Friend and a Song_

When the Maia woke she saw that it was already mid-afternoon. She smiled as she lifted her staff of cypress wood and ran her fingers along the subtle runes. Her staff was part of her now, it would serve as a way for her to channel her power, making it stronger.

She rose from where she rested against the tree and sighed at the hunger in her belly. Feeding herself was going to be something that took getting used to. She busied herself gathering more bulrushes to eat and realized that she would not be able to stay in her field for long. She needed more substantial food. She decided to walk upstream and began to make her way along the river chewing her root as she went. She probably had about three hours of daylight left. She knew that civilizations often arose near water so she was bound to run into someone soon. She set off walking briskly, singing to herself as she went.

After a short while, she came to what looked to be a small footpath that wound along the riverside. It began as little more than an animal trail and slowly widened until it was a neat little dirt path. This discovery added some vigor to pace for she knew she would soon find people. She was both nervous and excited by the prospect of encountering other physical beings. What could she say to explain herself and her sudden appearance? She was not entirely sure how she was going to communicate with whomever she met. She knew all of the languages of middle earth, those used currently as well as those long forgotten, so that was not the aspect of communication that concerned her. What frightened her was the fear that she would have nothing to speak of. It is difficult to find a common ground with other people when your existence up until that point consisted of training under heavenly beings as a creature with no corporeal form.

She pushed those worries aside with the knowledge that worrying would do nothing to improve her situation and instead focused on the beauty that surrounded her. The water rushed by over stones polished smooth after enduring ages of the relentlessly rushing water. The tall trees that grew along the bank, willow, cypress, and alder reached their limbs to the sky; the sun peeking through their leaves dappled the ground in light.

Faintly on the breeze, she became aware of singing, a far off tune sung by a warbling tenor that slowly reached her ear. It was not long before she began to make out the words of the singers cheerful song.

 _Yo Ho, Hum do, Hum dummy dillo_

 _Old Tom is off to fetch a prize for the river daughter._

 _A pearl, pure and freshly minted_

 _That's the prize I have intended,_

 _For my lovely river daughter._

 _Waterlilies blooms are sweet_

 _But a rarer prize is what I seek._

 _Only the best for my lovely river daughter._

Suddenly around the corner appeared a smallish man with yellow boots and a blue jacket. He had a wild beard that tumbled to his chest and a weather beaten face. However, despite is apparent age he moved with great agility and his eyes held a youthful sparkle.

"Ho there," he exclaimed as he came to a halt before her. "Behold the freshly minted pearl and her newly crafted stick!" and with that he let out a deep belly laugh that rang across the valley and begged the Istari to join in. She did, adding her smooth warm laugh to his gruff loud one. They both laughed until tears leaked from their eyes and they had quite forgotten what they had been laughing about.

"Tom Bombadil at your service!" he said with a bow once they had collected themselves.

"It's a pleasure," responded the Istari in kind, "I am Myself, and I am at your service to be sure. I am afraid I have yet to acquire a name."

"Ah," responded the man seriously, "Names are important things, be sure you don't rush into one. In fact, you may acquire several. But, only take those names that fit you."

"Thank you for your wisdom good sir" she responded with a smile. She liked the little energetic man in front of her but he puzzled her greatly. He was old, ancient in fact. She knew he had been in existence perhaps even longer than she, but he was no elf. He was not a fellow Istari or any form of Maiar as far as she could tell. He was an enigma, but a kindly one and she would be glad to make him her first friend.

"Now," he said taking a step back to study her critically, "If I am going to take you to my Goldberry you must go wrapped. As all the best gifts are. It is typical of them to forget to send you with clothes."

The Istari looked down at herself and saw to her chagrin that she was in fact stark naked. She marveled that she hadn't noticed before. She supposed it hadn't been important. What was important was exploring this new world that she had been deposited in. Learning how her new body functioned and marveling in the sensations that assaulted it, allowing her mind to process the plethora of sensory information; sight, sound, touch, smell. Trivial matters such as clothing were the last thing on her mind. She had never had to consider clothes before. She had never had a body before.

It occurred to her that she should probably be embarrassed by her lack of clothes but she could think of no reason to be ashamed. She liked the body that she had been given and to be honest she didn't quite understand the necessity of clothing in the first place. At least not in such pleasant weather.

"Ah," said Tom with a grin, "I see that this is all quite new to you. You have much to learn about daughter and I will help where I may." With that, he removed his long blue coat and handed it to her. She pulled it on and fasted the buttons and buckles. The coat had fallen to his knees but she was taller than him so it fell about mid-thigh on her and the sleeves were to short but he must have deemed her suitably wrapped because he nodded his head in satisfaction.

"That will do for now," he smiled, "although I do not think that blue is your color."

"No, I should think not" she replied, "blue is the color belonging to two of my brothers."

"Ah, yes," He agreed and she marveled at his knowledge of such things, "your color my dear is as important a thing as your name, fear not we will find it in time."

"Now!" he laughed as he linked his arm in hers, "I will take you to my Goldberry and we shall have a dinner fit for kings."

She laughed as her stomach rumbled its assent and they set off together, skipping up the path letting their voices fill the air with song.


End file.
